


Snow and Sleep

by beeperpie



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Family Dynamics, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27745237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeperpie/pseuds/beeperpie
Summary: Out on a late night walk, Wilbur hears a cry for help and finds himself bringing home a sleeping child to his family: Tommy, Techno, and Phil.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 268





	Snow and Sleep

It was cold.

Wilbur buried his face into the soft cotton scarf that was wrapped loosely around his neck. The tips of his ears, nose, and fingers were raw and red from the temperature, but he didn’t care. He liked taking late night walks, especially when winter came to the forest. This was the third time it had snowed this season, and instead of the usual blizzard level snowstorm it was soft powdered sugar that drifted down from the dark star filled sky. 

He stood in a small clearing where Wilbur could see the trees and the sleepy sky that he would dream about as a little kid. Just as he started to roll back into his thoughts as he would normally do on these walks, he heard a startling cry. His once relaxed body now stood rigid in the cold snow, and the low temperature began to set in. Even under his fur-hooded down jacket, the piercing icy feeling reached his skin. Another cry.

Wilbur’s pulse was racing, and he could hear the thumping of his pounding heart in his ears. The cries got louder and more and more desperate as time went on. Convinced that they wouldn’t stop until he did something about it, Wilbur began to move towards the sound.

The crying stopped. Silence fell over the woods again, but not the good kind.

He started running. The cold, though still there, was unimportant now. Wilbur wasn’t a hero. He was anything but that. However, his legs moved faster than they ever had before until he reached the place where he was sure that the pained cries had come from.

It was a snow covered hill that he stood at the top of, looking down at the long and steep descent. The snow wasn’t soft anymore. The wind whipped around him, hitting his face and legs with a frozen harshness. Through the extreme weather he could see the outline of a small figure. 

A little boy.

Wilbur jumped from the pang of fear and guilt that invaded his body like a vengeful phantom, and slipped. He tumbled down the snowy hill disoriented from the spinning and blinding precipitation. Once he opened his eyes again, the kid laid right in front of him. 

He was wearing nothing but a ripped sweater that resembled the pattern of a bee with yellow and black stripes, and jeans that were bloodied at the knees from falling down the hill. His brown hair was messy and matted, covering the redness that colored his face.

Picking up the kid, Wilbur felt how light he was. He was probably lost out here for days he thought to himself. The boy was still shivering so Wilbur then took the warm scarf from his neck, and covered the kid’s small frame in its soft fabric. 

After around 30 minutes of walking, Wilbur found himself back at home. The small cottage where he lived with his dad and brothers was a beacon of warmth and light against the cold darkness of the night. He could feel laughter erupting from inside, and he felt a relieved smile grow from his face. 

“Hey,”

A small blonde boy looked up from the spinning record player that sat in the middle of the living room and greeted his brother with a wide grin, showing off his missing front tooth.

“Wilby!”

Wilbur smirked at the nickname.

“Big T, can you get dad from upstairs please?”

Tommy looked at the kid that slept in his brother’s arm with a scared expression on his face. The way that he furrowed his brows reminded Wilbur of a cartoon, his little brother was always so expressive.

“Who is that?”

“I don’t know, but he is hurt. Please get dad.”

The eight year old ran upstairs, yelling for their dad and brother, Techno. Wilbur walked over to the couch and gently laid the small boy down on the soft surface. He then took off his winter coat and pulled it over the kid like a big soft blanket, before going into the kitchen to make the two of them food. 

A minute later, Tommy came bounding down the stairs followed by Phil and Techno who slowly followed behind. Phil looked at the sleeping child who Wilbur had put on the couch and asked,

“Who do we have here?”

Wilbur walked into the room from the kitchen, holding a tray with hot cocoa for everyone, and food for both him and the boy. He placed the tray on the floor and walked over to his dad who was crouched in front of the couch watching the kid sleep. 

“I don’t know. I found him while I was out walking. I think he fell down a hill because..”

Techno gave him a suspicious glance.

“Because I fell down the same hill when trying to find him.”

His brother covered his mouth with a fist to try and hide the stifled laugh that forcibly erupted from him.

“He has a pretty nasty cut on his knee from the fall. I’ll go get something to clean it up.”

Wilbur walked upstairs to grab the first aid kit.

“Do you think he likes music? I could play music from the spinney thingy!”

“Tommy, I think right now we should try not to make too much noise, our new friend needs rest. Maybe when he wakes up we can play music.”

Despite Tommy’s seemingly uncontrollable behavior, Phil was always able to convince him to listen, just through a simple smile. Phil had that kind of connection with all three of his sons. From knowing how to comfort Wil, to helping Techno grow potatoes in the garden out back, he always seemed to be able to cheer people up by simply being around.

“Oh, that’s ok I can wait.”

Tommy ran to the other side of the room as soon as he remembered the cocoa that Wilbur had made for everyone. He sat on a floor cushion in front of the warm fire and sipped on the sweet beverage, waiting for the boy to wake up.

“I’m going to go back to my room. Feel free to call me back down when the kid gets up.”

Phil nodded at him in acknowledgment and Techno walked over to the tray to grab a mug of the cocoa before going back up the stairs, his long braided hair trailing behind him.

“Hey! Watch it pig-brain!”

Wilbur said as Techno knocked into him while trying to go up the stairs, almost spilling his cocoa.

“Sheesh, ok Wilbur no need to yell. You almost made me spill my drink on myself, it wasn't just me.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes at his older brother before bringing the metal box to Phil.

“First aid stuff, I don’t know how to do...y’know first aid.”

Phil stared at Wilbur with a tired and weary look before talking the box into his hands. Starting with cleaning the kid’s knees with antiseptic and then wrapping them in bandages and gauze. He tried to explain the very simple process to Wilbur but he was too distracted by a debate of which of the only two records they owned was the better one, Tommy won in the end.  
After the three of them settled down on floor cushions in front of the fire with their cocoa, they spent fifteen minutes talking about what to do during the holidays before Tommy fell asleep with his head on Wilbur’s shoulder.

“Alright then. I’m gonna get off to bed now Wil. If something is wrong please come get me but I’m exhausted.”

“Night dad.”

Phil stood up from his cushion, put his empty mug into the kitchen sink, and then headed upstairs to go to sleep, leaving Wilbur alone with the two sleeping children.

He looked down at Tommy who was now curled up into a ball, resting his head on Wilbur’s leg. He then looked up at the nameless kid who slept peacefully now that he was safe and sound in a warm place where the cold night couldn’t bite him. As careful as a mother moving her sleeping baby, Wilbur got up and moved the boy to the cushion where he had been sitting next to Tommy. 

Next thing he knew, Wilbur woke up early in the morning on the living room couch. He rolled over to his side and jumped up when he saw that the kid was gone, along with Tommy.

“Tommy? Tommy!”

“Wil, calm.”

He fell back in relief. Phil was standing in the kitchen doorway sipping a cup of tea. The room was filled with a bright white light from the sun reflecting on the snow. Oh my god. He thought to himself. The snow! Wilbur stared in awe and horror at the windows of the cottage that were more than halfway buried in white powder.

“We’re snowed in.”

“Yeah,”

Phil chuckled at Wilbur’s shock.

“WILLLLLLBYYYYY!”

Tommy came crashing into the room with a paper airplane in his hand and his usual red and white t-shirt that was always too big on him. He was more cheerful than usual, and he’s usually cheerful. Wilbur yawns and then looks back at Phil. From behind his dad a tiny face peeks out to shyly look him in the eyes.

“Oh, you woke up. How are you feeling, little guy?”

“Wil.”

“Mm?”

“We need to talk.”

Phil's concerned tone made Wilbur stops smiling at the little kid and glance up at his dad. With a confused expression he sighed and stood up, stretching along the way. He walked into the kitchen with Phil and the little boy ran over to Tommy to play with him.

“What’s wrong? Is it the kid? He looks fine to me.”

“Wil listen to them for a moment.”

They stood quietly on the kitchen tiles listening to the two boys play with the paper airplane. Wilbur’s heart skips a beat when he realizes what’s wrong.

“Why isn’t he talking?”

“I don’t know. I asked him a few questions earlier such as: how are you feeling? Are you hungry? Where are your parents? You get the point. Every time he answered he either nodded, shook his head, wrote, or drew the answer on paper. He doesn’t speak.”

“That makes no sense. He was screaming when I found him last night.”

“I know.”

“What are we going to do if we can’t find out his parents’ names? I found him in the woods that stretches miles not too far away from the cottage. We don’t have neighbors within five whole miles of that space. For all we know the kid could be from anywhere!”

“I know that. I’m considering taking him in if we can’t find his parents.”

Phil’s words left Wilbur speechless. His dad was the kind of person who refused for weeks to let an injured calf Tommy found into the barn yet, he was willing to take care of a whole other kid for the rest of their life? 

“Tommy really likes him, which is ironic because of how much Tommy speaks.”

They stood in the kitchen watching the duo play for a bit more before Wilbur walked back into the living room. He went up to the boy and put a hand on his head.

“You are really strong for such a little kid huh,”

The boy looked up at him with sparkling eyes and then gave him a wide smile. He was wearing an extra shirt of Phil’s, Wilbur assumed based on the color. It was oversized on him and one of the buttons was in the wrong place, leaving an extruding curved shape on the front. He ruffled the kids brown hair and then walked to the back door which led to the garden, trying to find another way out of the house that didn’t include shovels or snow coming indoors. 

“Dammit. This door too.”

“Wilby?”

Tommy tugged at Wilbur’s yellow sweater.

“Is Tubbee our new brother?”

“Tubbee?”

Wilbur asked, confused by the word that had escaped the with year olds mouth.

“Tubbee! You know? You found him yesterday!”

“Oh, is that his name?”

“It’s his new name! He can’t remember his old name and so I made him a new one about his favorite things. Bees and Bathtubs!”

“Bathtubs?”

Wilbur raised an eyebrow.

“When Tubbee woke up, I showed him around the house and he liked the bathtub. We pretended we were pirates like the ones in Techno’s stories! We named our boat tubboat because its a bathtub and a boat!”

Wilbur laughed. It was so stupid but it was also really cute.

“WAIT! I have a better idea Tubbee!”

Tommy ran off towards the living room again, and Wilbur slid to the floor in frustration. Fuck this. I want to go outside. Techno came trudging down the back stairs, looking for coffee.

“Why are you up?”

“Kids, snow, boats, etcetera, etcetera”

“Oh wow. We really are snowed in huh?”

“Yup…”

“Eh, it could be worse.”

Techno said before slowly walking into the kitchen to get his daily dose of caffeine. Wilbur followed close behind and was met by both Tommy and Tubbee.

“Wilbur! Guess what? I came up with a better name for Tubbee!”

“What? Didn’t you just-”

“Tubbo!”

“Never mind.”

“Get it? Like our boat, Tubboat!”

“Yeah, I get it.”

Wilbur sighs and then walks into the kitchen where Phil and Techno are chatting about a book they were both reading. He’s not hungry and he didn’t read the book yet he finds himself standing in the kitchen listening to the two speak about classic literature while staring into the fridge at all of the food that it held inside. Finally after about five minutes Wilbur grabs a glass of water and heads to the quiet safety of his room.

Years ago he had painted the walls a dark grey when he wanted to paint them black because Phil said that black was too dark. The color didn't really matter because he had covered it all in shelves, posters, and cork boards that obstructed any large spaces of the wall from showing. The shelves held things like atlases, notebooks, old soda bottles and things from his childhood. 

His messy double bed sat on the right side of the room against the wall to maximize the floorspace, which there wasn't too much of. His bedspread was plain white but he made up for that with the stuffed animals he got when he was a little kid. An old wooden crate from a farmers market was being used as a makeshift bedside table, with a table lamp and alarm clock sitting on top. There was no overhead light in the room so it remained dark at most times of the day, making it the perfect place for Wilbur to decompress. 

The most important thing in his room however, was the guitar that he had gotten for his 12th birthday. In his room he wrote music and stories that filled the notebooks on his shelves, most of which have never been heard or seen by anyone but him. It was nice to have something that secret and personal, considering how much he shares with his brothers and father.  
The past two days have been a lot huh, he thinks to himself, setting down the glass of water and picking up his guitar. He reaches for one of his notebooks, this one marked “YCGMA” in messy handwriting. Sitting on his bed he opened the book and flipped to one of the incomplete songs that were thoughtfully scribbled into the white sheets. Lightly strumming the chords, Wilbur whispered to himself,

“Tubbo huh?”

**Author's Note:**

> (This is a WIP fic and I might add more chapters if people ask but, I'm also working on my other sbi fic, Far From Sleepy Cottage, which I need to post the next chapter of)


End file.
